Effulgence
by kenzimone
Summary: Beautiful lightning streaked across the sky. She spread her arms out and tilted her head back. Reveling in the feel of the rain against her skin. Welcoming the storm.


**Title:** Effulgence

**Author**: kenzimone

**Summary:** Beautiful lightning streaked across the sky. She spread her arms out and tilted her head back. Reveling in the feel of the rain against her skin. Welcoming the storm.

**Authors Note:** It's been done before, that I am sure of. However, the idea wouldn't leave me alone (my muse working for once), so it was written. A slant towards J/V. Enjoy.

**Disclaimer:** I don't own the show, nor do I claim to. Trust me, things would be a whole lot different if I did own it.

Effulgence

White, hot. Streaks of lightning flashing before his eyes. Horrifying at first, as he knew he wasn't supposed to see such things, that it wasn't raining, that no one else saw this lightning and that the fact that he did surely indicated that something was wrong. But as time passed he thought them less and less frightening, and now they gave him something to focus on, they calmed him. 

He had always loved lightning. The smell in the air telling of the coming of a storm, and then the awesome power of the heavens as they opened to pour rain down upon the land, and brilliant streaks of light traveled across the sky, jumping form cloud to cloud, playfully, as the sound of thunder echoed for miles around. 

He would feel free, standing in the middle of the street, face tilted upwards to welcome the rain. Just standing there, letting the large drops wash over him and cleanse him, wash away all of his troubles and invigorate him, making him able to go on until the next storm.

It wasn't raining this time, though. There was only the lightning. And the pain.

Hot, lacing itself through his body, from his stomach to his legs, arms, along his spine. Fire in his chest, and he coughed and gasped for breath, sending more fire spreading through his body. He was warm, so warm. He could feel the perspiration covering him, his hair matted to his forehead, his shirt clinging to his body. Licking his lips, he could taste the salt and something else, something almost metallic. Blinking, he found that he had difficulty opening his eyes again. Weak. More fire, traveling through his veins throughout his body. He was burning up from the inside.

And yet, he was cold. So very very cold. The ground he lay on was cold, the air surrounding him was cold, and while his body felt detached, his mind hazy, he thought he could feel his fingers shaking ever so slightly. But if it really was from the cold or from the pain, he couldn't tell. 

And then something splattered onto his cheek, and he opened his eyes, staring up at the dark night sky. Another drop, then yet another. And as the heavens opened, Jamie smiled.

-----

It was the same route he took every day. He'd walked it every day since he was eight. Passed the same houses, shops and gardens, over the same crossings, taking the same short cuts every single day for almost ten years. He knew every single corner, every sign, tree and pot hole like the back of his hand. It was a bad neighborhood, he knew. Or rather, he had been told. But, he'd walked it every single day for almost ten years. Safely. Why should today have been any different?

The shop was small, situated on the corner of the block. It didn't have much to offer, only the essentials, but it was like an oasis in-between the brick buildings and badly maintained houses. On his way home from the station, he'd usually stop by, buy himself a soda and perhaps a chocolate bar, before heading home.

It was routine.

This, lying on the ground, staring up at the black clouds above, feeling so warm, and yet so cold... This was not routine.

Painful. It was painful to remember. 

He had been digging through the pockets of his jacket, searching for spare change. One dollar and fifty cents. Almost enough.

He mustn't have paid attention as he pushed the shop door open with his shoulder, hands searching through the pockets of his pants, because just as his hand enclosed around a wrinkled dollar bill he was violently thrown back, tumbling out of the shop and onto the sidewalk.

Then came the sound. It sounded like an explosion going off right beside him, echoing through the neighborhood until it sounded like the distant rumble of thunder.

Through the fog that had suddenly appeared over his eyes he could see a silhouette glide past him, as if in slow motion. An object drifted down towards him, at first slowly but then gaining speed. It landed to the right of him, just a few inches from his head, with a clatter.

A gun. A shiny silver gun. He'd never seen a real one before.

And then the pain hit him, as if he'd suddenly been rammed in the chest by a truck. Five minutes later the first lightning bolt appeared.

-----

_Jamie reached into his locker, pulling out his leather jacket. He shrugged it on before checking his hair in the mirror he'd taped to the locker door. Hearing a sound he spun around, seeing __Tyler__ standing in the door way shaking his head and chuckling. Jamie pointedly ignored him, using his fingers to re-spike his hair, which had fallen into a state of disarray as he'd gotten dressed._

_Tyler watched the brunet preen for several minutes, not even bothering to fake an interest in what he was witnessing. He cleared his throat, trying but not managing to get the dark haired teen's attention._

_"Jamie," he began, wincing as the person addressed gave his reflection a winning smile and slammed the locker shut with a bang. "It's only __five thirty__, where—"_

_Jamie turned, a smile adorning his face. "I know."_

_"—do you think you're going?" __Tyler__ finished, scowling at Jamie's interruption._

_"It's my mom's birthday," Jamie turned to face the mirror hanging on the wall behind him. "We're planning a surprise party for her." He paused, making a face. "Well, Peter is. I'll be lucky if I get to write my name on the card she's getting."_

_Tyler__ wasn't sure what to respond to that. "Okay, um, have you—"_

_Jamie turned, walking up to him. "Yeah, I've straightened it all out with Alex." He looked up at the blonde, smirking. "So, while you losers sit here, bored off you asses, I'll be stuffing my face with cake."_

_Tyler mock glared at him, following him out of the dressing room._

_"Hey, where is he going?!"__ Brooke called from behind the desk, watching Jamie push the door to the station open._

_"See ya', losers!" he called, exiting quickly, laughing at the good natured insults the rest of the paramedics threw at him._

-----

Val drummed her fingers against the surface of the table she was sitting at. Glancing at the clock, she sighed. Ten to six. Only twenty minutes since Jamie left. It seemed like an eternity. Something told her it was going to be a long night.

She picked up the book lying in front of her. The new Stephen King novel. She'd been looking forward to reading it. Now would have been the perfect opportunity – Brooke was idly flipping through _Teen Beat_, once in a while snorting at something she'd read. Hank was sipping on a glass of juice, engrossed in a medical journal. Val hadn't heard him make a sound the past ten minutes. Tyler was lying on the couch, staring at the ceiling tiles, seemingly awed by _something up there. Val had spent five minutes staring at them as well, trying to figure out what was so fascinating about them. She concluded it was probably how, after you'd been staring at them long enough, the cracks lining the tiles seemed to form an image looking very much like the Mona Lisa._

Looking back at the book in her hands, she opened and flipped through it. This wasn't like her. Here she was, bored to death, with a book she'd been waiting to read for _months_, and yet she wasn't reading it. Something was wrong. She closed the book with a slam, smiling apologetically at Hank, who'd been startled back to the real world by the sound. Pushing the book away from her, she leaned forward and rested her head on her arms. She might as well take a nap.

-----

_It was cold. And warm. Such a strange sensation. Beautiful lightning streaked across the sky. She looked up, reveling in the feel of the rain against her skin. Another lightning bolt. The sound of thunder, getting louder with each rumble as it came closer and closer. She spread her arms out, tilted her head back, and welcomed the storm._

-----

"Val?" Someone was shaking her shoulder. "Val?"

"Uh?" She blinked, looking up to see Hank staring down at her.

"We've got a call. C'mon."

She nodded, looking up at the clock. Five past six. Pushing herself out of the chair, she hurried after Tyler and Hank towards the ambulance.

"Someone got shot," Hank told them as he navigated the ambulance around a corner, its wailing sirens telling people to get out of its way. "That's all the information I got."

Val braced herself as the ambulance turned another corner, watching the blue and red lights reflect off of the wet surfaces of the buildings they passed. It was raining. Closing her eyes, she tried to remember everything she'd been taught about gun shot wounds. She came up with a blank. 

Something was wrong.

"Something is wrong."

They hadn't heard her; the whisper couldn't compete with the wail of the sirens.

Hank stopped the vehicle, and turned off the engine as Tyler unbuckled his seat belt and jumped out. Hands shaking, Val fumbled with her own belt before climbing out of the ambulance. Tyler and Hank were already grabbing their emergency kits, and she watched them push past a small crowd of people who'd gathered at the scene.

_Something's wrong._

She instinctively grabbed a kit before following in Tyler and Hank's wake. Pushing herself through the crowd she soon stumbled upon the reason for all the commotion. Tyler's hands were already covered in blood, almost up to his elbows. He was swearing under his breath, something that surprised Val as it was something he rarely ever did, and she watched as he prepared a dose of morphine for injection. Hank was kneeling on the other side, cutting through a _Slipknot T-shirt and—no._

_No no no no no no no._

Val stumbled up to them, kneeling at Jamie's head. Cautiously she put her kit down, being careful not to touch the gun lying on the ground beside her. She didn't have the time to ponder on why – how – this had happened. Ironic, since it all seemed to move in slow motion. 

He looked asleep. She was almost afraid to touch him, fearing she'd wake him up and he'd be angry at her. Or fearing that he wouldn't wake up at all. He was awfully pale. Tentatively, she reached out a shaking hand, pushing a stray strand of hair out of his eyes. Expecting him to feel like ice, expecting him to be shivering under her touch.

But he wasn't cold. He was hot, burning up. And yet he _was shivering. His breathing was shallow, fast. Like he was suffocating. She couldn't remember what to do, how to act. Blank. Her mind was a white space of... _nothing._ _

She looked up at Hank and Tyler. Hank had detached himself. Gone into doctor mode. He was the unit leader, if he broke down, his team would break down, and he knew it. His hands were pressed to Jamie's side, blood pouring out from between his fingers. For a moment he seemed mesmerized by it, crimson drops dripping down into crimson pools, blending with the rain. A morbid fascination. The he snapped back into doing what he did best. Val was glad, he had scared her.

Tyler was trying, she could see. His eyes were alert, and he sounded confident enough as he and Hank traded information. His hands were shaking, though. Silent tears, or maybe they were just rain drops, running down his cheeks. He was already drenched, they all were, but she wouldn't be surprised if he _was crying. She was. She watched him inject the morphine into Jamie's arm. Dispose of the syringe. Check the pulse._

She licked her lips. "What should I do?"

No one had heard her. She tried again.

"Hank, what should I do?"

Tyler's head snapped up, as if he had just realized that she was there.

"Talk to him, try to get him to stay conscious." Hank didn't take his eyes off the blood. "It must have hit an artery. Tyler, get something to stop the bleeding. Now, go!"

Tyler scrambled up in a standing position, running towards the ambulance. Val gently lifted Jamie's head into her lap.

"Jamie?" _Please answer me. Please please..._

She was rewarded with a low moan, and the fluttering of eye lids.

"Jamie?"

-----

The lightning had moved on. Like always it had just happened to pass through on its way to somewhere else. The thunder had gone, as well.

The pain was dull. Throbbing, somewhere in his stomach. No longer running through the length of his body, but centered in a distinct spot. He didn't know if that was good or bad.

_"Jamie?"_

It startled him. So many sounds around him, but this was the only clear one. The only one he could really make out. It sent him hurtling down to reality again. The noises, now so much louder, made his head throb. The pain was still centered, but it suddenly became so much more unmanageable. His lungs wanted to scream, his whole being wanted to, but he couldn't breathe. A low moan escaped him.

_"Jamie?"_

She, because he was sure it was a 'she', was blurry to him. She was looking down at him, gazing at him. He could feel her hands on his face, and he welcomed the cool sensation. He was burning up. Not cold anymore, burning. Fire.

Another moan.

_"Jamie..."_ She made a shush-ing sound, bringing one hand up to stroke his forehead. _"Don't worry, we'll take care of you."_

He closed and opened his eyes, trying to focus on her face. Blue and red lights danced in the background, and they created the illusion of her hair changing colors. He would have thought her an angel, if he hadn't been in so much pain – if he hadn't been so certain that he was still alive.

_"Jamie, you can't go to sleep. Not yet."_

His eyes snapped open; he hadn't realized he'd closed them.

"Val?"

-----

She lost her breath. It got caught, somewhere between her lungs and her throat. Biting back a sob, she nodded.

"Yeah, it's me. Stay with me, okay? Tyler and Hank are here too, and they're going to help you—"

He coughed, and she watched as small specks of blood appeared on his lips. Reaching out a shaking hand, she used her thumb to wipe the ones on his bottom lip off.

She looked up as Tyler crouched beside Hank, handing him dressings, which were already soaking wet from the rain.

"We need to get him to a hospital," Hank told him as he applied more pressure on Jamie's side, earning a hiss of pain from Jamie. Val continued to stroke his forehead.

"We can't move him, not until we get the bleeding under control," Tyler objected, shaking hands checking Jamie's pulse. "He'll bleed to death if we do."

"He _is _bleeding to death!" Hank snapped at him. "We can't handle this here, he needs to get to a hospital."

"Val?"

"Mmh?" She looked down at him, absently stroking his hair. She felt numb, detached. 

Bleeding to death. Of course he was. She barely registered Hank telling – ordering – Tyler to go get a stretcher.

"I feel better now." 

She looked down. His eyes were shut, but his voice was steady enough. He opened his eyes, blinking a few times, before focusing on her.

She loved his eyes. That was the first thing she'd noticed about him. Two twin dark pools of brown. Dark, but there was always a sparkle in them. A sparkle of pure light. When he would claim to be indifferent, untouchable, corrupt, she would know better. Just by looking for that sparkle.

And it wasn't gone yet. Faded, but still there.

"I know you do."

-----

He closed his eyes again. Trying to focus on her was tiring. He could hear her move, and suddenly felt her lips on his forehead. He breathed in, as deeply as he could, feeling the scent of her shampoo. Strawberry. Well, now he knew the answer to that question.

He had sensed her watching him sometimes, at the station. It was like she was always doing that. He didn't mind, though. Almost the opposite. The way she was watching, the meaning behind her gaze... Like she was trying to get to know him, or trying to figure out what was really happening there inside of him. Just watching, not judging, as most tended to do. Just watching. Trying to get to know him.

Somehow, someway, it had worked. He felt close to her. Closer than he thought he could be. Soon he found himself watching too. Watching her speak, work, laugh. Getting to know her too. They almost never spoke directly to each other, never interacted unless necessary. They weren't expected to.

But still they became friends, simply by watching. And with friendship came respect, and with respect came admiration, and with admiration...

And they continued to watch.

He opened his eyes again, looking up at her. Her eyes were red rimmed, blue, large and glassy.

"You're beautiful."

-----

She choked, feeling the tears start running down her cheeks again. Damn tears.

He blinked, before again focusing on her. She nodded, using one hand to dry her eyes while the other one continued to stroke his forehead. She glanced at Hank, who hadn't seemed to hear Jamie's proclamation, but was busy trying to stop the stream of blood flowing from Jamie's side.

Blood.

She was reminded where she was, and why she was there.

Dying.

Under normal circumstances, she would have blushed at his announcement. And he would have smiled, and then she would have smiled as well, and then maybe he would've leaned closer and—

—and he would leave her, all alone. Die. Never lean closer, never kiss her, again.

Val leaned down, brushing her lips against his temple. The only thing she could do.

He closed his eyes. "So, maybe you would like to go to a movie with me this Friday?"

She surprised herself – she laughed. Hollow sounding, despairing. So many words describing what she was feeling. Empty, lonely. And she was laughing.

-----

And to him it was beautiful. He had always thought so. He could detect a hint of sadness in it, but it was still beautiful. 

And then it stopped.

"I'd love to, Jamie."

And he could feel her breath on his lips.

And everything stopped.

-----

She pulled away, lips tingling.

"Oh _shit!_ Tyler!"

Still tingling.

"He's not breathing! I can't find a pulse!"

And a stretcher fell to the ground beside her, and she was pulled away, arms hugging her. Rocking her. Tyler. Shaking, she was sobbing.

And her lips were still tingling.

-----

CPR.

_It's not working!_

So much blood, too much blood.

Too late.

Someone was screaming.

Val.

It didn't register. He _couldn't_ register it.

Shaking, he stumbled back.

Dead.

Jamie was dead.

And he was covered in his blood.

-----

She saw Hank back away. 

_What are you doing?! _she wanted to scream at him. _Save him! You're supposed to save him!_

He looked her way, "Val..."

Above them, lightning streaked across the sky.


End file.
